Entrepreneurship

Gerontocapitalism

Greed is good for you

GETTING old is a depressing prospect. If things go well, you may find yourself playing shuffleboard on a cruise ship with some fellow geriatrics; if things go badly, then it is off to the old folks' home. Meanwhile, the definition of “old” seems to become less and less forgiving. Britain's Conservative Party recently elected David Cameron, aged 39, as its new leader—largely on the basis that he is young, and has a splendid head of glossy hair. His older and more experienced colleagues—men in their 50s and 60s—were dismissed as hopelessly past their sell-by-date. And politics is simply reflecting society. Only two-fifths of 55-to-64-year-olds are still working in western Europe; even in the United States more than a third of them have stopped working.

But one group is setting an inspiring counter-example: there is no apparent retirement age for tycoons and corporate raiders. The grand-daddy of them all is Kirk Kerkorian, often described in a magnificently deadpan phrase as the “88-year-old Las Vegas-based corporate raider”. Mr Kerkorian made his fortune in airlines and hotels. But since last May he has bought almost 10% of General Motors and has been piling pressure on the company's management, in an effort to get his man on to the board and shake the place up. Some might argue that a desire to get closely involved with GM is evidence of senility. But Mr Kerkorian has a formidable reputation as an investor, and is nobody's fool. Compared with him, Carl Icahn, another corporate raider, is a mere adolescent. At 69, he too is past the normal retirement age—but is still well-capable of striking fear in any boardroom. Mr Icahn's latest quarry is Time Warner, the world's largest media company.

Certain chief executives also seem able to ignore the rules that govern mere mortals and middle-managers. At the age of 74, Rupert Murdoch has launched a bold new internet-based strategy for News Corporation. Meanwhile Sumner Redstone, the 82-year-old boss of Viacom, has just outmanoeuvred his rivals at NBC Universal, and snatched away the prize of the DreamWorks SKG film studio for $1.6 billion. Sceptics might respond that Messrs Murdoch and Redstone are now just sitting atop empires that they created many years ago. Few people have the energy to create a business from scratch, once they are getting on. Maybe so, but it has been done. Ray Kroc launched the McDonald's restaurant chain at the age of 52, and built it up over the next 30 years.

The elixir of corporate life

So what lessons can ordinary mortals glean from the Krocs and the Kerkorians? First, be your own boss—then nobody can sack you or force you to retire. Voters and managers, who control the fates of politicians and of ordinary workers, are foolishly susceptible to ageist prejudice. Shareholders, by contrast, don't care how wrinkly a chap looks so long as he delivers the dividends. Second, never retire—it rots the brain. Mr Murdoch once returned an advance he had been given to produce his autobiography, remarking that sitting down to write his life story would be like admitting it was all over.

Finally, “greed”—the pursuit of wealth—is obviously good for you: keeping at it is helping to keep these men young. The money, evidently, is not the point. The Kerkorians, Redstones, Icahns and Murdochs have stashed away more billions than they could ever spend on new houses or wives, yet they go on slugging. Maybe it's the lust for power that drives them to fulfil their evolutionary destiny. Maybe it's the love of the chase. Either way, it beats shuffleboard.